


Incense and Understandings

by dreamlittleyo



Series: Flippant 'Verse [6]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Confusion, M/M, Romance, Sexual Tension, Telepathic Bond, Understanding, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Wordcount: Over 1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 05:20:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlittleyo/pseuds/dreamlittleyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The conclusion (in which Kirk and Spock finally realize what matters.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incense and Understandings

Kirk tries to let it go.

So Spock kissed him. So Kirk would really like Spock to kiss him again. Neither fact matters in the big scheme of things, because Spock is sticking stubbornly to his _momentary lapse in judgment_. Kirk knows damn well how to accept a rejection, even if Spock _does_ watch him a little too closely these days. He has to go by the words coming out of Spock's mouth, not the tantalizing hints of other things he picks up directly from Spock's brain.

Besides, he's the captain. There are lines he doesn't get to cross.

Ever since that out-of-nowhere kiss in the lab, Spock has made it an especial point to stay out of Kirk's head. After months living in each other's pockets—after growing accustomed to the familiar pulse of Spock's presence in the back of his mind—the sudden absence feels a hundred kinds of wrong. It stings, and Kirk hates this. He should have known better than to let himself rely on that closeness. 

Kirk's libido makes it even more difficult to maintain the distance he needs. Opportunities for physical intimacy are few and far between for a starship captain, and Kirk can count on one hand the number of times he's gotten laid since taking command. That's a year and a half, and not _nearly_ enough sex for a man of Kirk's proclivities. And suddenly there's Spock, messing with his head—pinning Kirk to the bulkhead and _kissing him_ , for fuck's sake—then refusing to so much as talk about it.

Of course _Spock_ is the only thing Kirk can think about.

He can't win. So he gets back in touch with Admiral Komack. No ferrying assignment this time. Why tempt fate? Komack grants permission to route the Enterprise to the Vulcan colony at the conclusion of their current survey mission, and Kirk is determined that they'll make it this time.

Naturally the mission goes to shit in the home stretch. Their desolate desert moon turns out not to be as barren as they thought. The crystalline lifeforms that speak up may defy the very concept of life as Starfleet knows it, but they're no less territorial for all that. By the time the Enterprise is safely away, Kirk has forgotten he still needs to inform Spock that their next stop is Vulcan.

But then, since when has Spock needed _Kirk_ to tell him what's going on aboard the Enterprise?

It's a two-week journey to the colony. The Enterprise covers half the distance before Spock finds him on the observation deck, empty but for Kirk at this late hour. For all that daytime on a Starship is an arbitrary designation, Gamma shift is a time of empty corridors and the silence of space. Kirk prefers it that way. It gives him time to appreciate his beautiful ship in solitude.

He doesn't mind his solitude being interrupted by his first officer coming to stand beside him. Spock positions himself to Kirk's left and follows Kirk's gaze out the viewport. For a moment they both simply take in the surreal, bending sight of space at warp. Spock's hands are clasped behind his back, his posture stiff, and it's long minutes before he breaks the silence.

"You seem troubled, Captain."

"Do I?" Kirk keeping his attention straight ahead, hoping futilely that Spock will drop the subject.

"Yes. For the past several days your mood has been more guarded than usual." A barely perceptible pause, and then Spock continues, "The closer we come to the Vulcan colony, the greater your apparent agitation."

Oh, good. Kirk isn't just showing his hand, he's being completely transparent. He searches for something honest to say that won't broadcast every confused feeling in his chest. 

"I'm not looking forward to having some stranger poke around in my head," he admits.

"Jim," Spock admonishes softly, and Kirk sighs. 

"Fine." Looks like this will require a little more honesty than he'd like. "I guess I've just gotten used to having you in my head. It's going to suck, going back to the way things were before."

Spock falls silent, but Kirk can fill in his half of the conversation easily enough from past experience. A dozen completely reasonable arguments about how there is no other choice, this is necessary, they cannot in fact allow the bond to remain. Kirk knows all these things. He still doesn't like it.

Spock still doesn't speak as several trudging seconds stretch into a minute and longer, and the lingering silence sets Kirk on edge. Spock has never been one for unnecessary words, but neither is he this uncommunicative. He sought Kirk out tonight, presumably with purpose, and his continued quiet doesn't sit right in the space between them. 

When Kirk sneaks a glance, he finds his first officer nearly vibrating with tension. He must deliberately be guarding himself, to keep Kirk from sensing his unease through the bond. But Kirk doesn't need the bond to show him the obvious tightness of Spock's posture; even at attention Spock never stands as rigidly as this.

"Are you all right?" Kirk asks in a soft, cautious voice.

Spock doesn't answer, and Kirk abruptly remembers that Vulcans don't lie. Clearly they (or maybe it's just Spock) prefer tense silence to straight answers, though. Terrific.

"Spock, if you're having second thoughts..." Kirk trails off, unsure how he intends to finish this thought. He's unsurprised when once again Spock offers nothing, but frustration mounts tightly in his chest just the same. Eventually, Kirk turns his back on the viewport. He deliberately doesn't look at his first officer.

"If there's nothing else—" he starts. He doesn't get to finish the sentence, startled instead by sudden movement. A strong hand closes tightly around his bicep, jerking him to a stop. Kirk turns and stares at Spock. He finds dark eyes drilling into him, wide and fierce and almost surprised. As though Spock is as startled to find himself holding onto Kirk as Kirk was to be grabbed in the first place.

"Spock what—?" Kirk begins to ask, but his throat closes tightly at the sudden surge of emotion that reaches him through the bond. An unguarded moment, physical contact overriding Spock's careful walls, and Kirk draws a quick, sharp breath at the unexpected heat in Spock's mind. Heat and other things. Complicated things. Fierce denial, hot frustration. And deeper down, something roiling and confused. A territorial hunger that Kirk can barely fathom coming from Spock.

But it _must_ be coming from Spock. Kirk may be suffering his own confusion of emotions, but he doedsn't feel territorial about Spock. Eager, yes. Desperate, maybe. But territorial? That one's not on him.

Christ, after that kiss in astrometrics he'd _known_ Spock must be interested. But this is miles beyond even Kirk's most ridiculous fantasies. This is an intensity that leaves him stunned and winded. 

He should be terrified at the depth of Spock's feeling. 

Somehow, he's not. He's never had much use for self-preservation anyway.

Before he can say a word, let alone conjure up a coherent thought, Spock releases him. The shields fly up between them, so fast Kirk is suddenly dizzy. The two men stare at each other, Kirk gaping, Spock inscrutable. 

Kirk opens his mouth, no idea what he's going to say but curious to find out.

The chirp of the communications panel on the wall interrupts him, and Checkov's voice sounds bright and clear.

"Bridge to Captain Kirk." 

Kirk keeps his eyes on Spock for an extra beat, but they both know he can't ignore a direct summons. He clenches his jaw as he turns and makes his way to the panel on the far wall.

\- — - — - — - — - — -

It's a distress signal. Kirk orders an intercept course and Spock follows him to the bridge.

\- — - — - — - — - — -

When the red alert klaxons have faded, Kirk is reluctant to resume their previous course. The Vulcan colony is the last place he wants to go right now. Hell, he's even more reluctant than he was before, turned around by the sudden revelation of just how little he and Spock have been understanding each other. Now that the ship is quiet, Kirk's brain jumps straight back to their unfinished conversation, and the look in Spock's eyes on an otherwise empty observation deck.

Fuck it. Kirk is done being reasonable and responsible about this. Those traits have always been more Spock's purview than his, and even Spock is falling somewhere short of the mark. 

Scotty pages the bridge, something about damage to one of the warp subsystems, and Kirk orders a full stop. He tells Scotty to make the necessary repairs, tells Sulu to park it in the meantime. 

Then he turns in his chair, towards the science console behind him. He turns and finds Spock watching him with a perplexed expression, one eyebrow sailing high. Kirk holds eye contact a beat too long, a pointed stare that must communicate his purpose. When he stands and strides towards the turbolift, Spock rises wordlessly and follows.

\- — - — - — - — - — -

Neither of them speaks as they navigate the Enterprise's not quite empty corridors. Somehow, by mutual understanding, they reach the door to Spock's quarters. Kirk won't admit to knowing Spock's code—any more than Spock is likely to admit he could break into Kirk's room as easily as breathing—and so he waits for Spock to unlock the door, then follows him inside.

The lights rise automatically as the door seals behind them, and Kirk realizes it's been months since he set foot in this room. 

He'd forgotten the surprising warmth of Spock's quarters, several degrees higher than ship standard. The air carries the distinct aroma of the incense Spock burns for meditation, and Kirk breathes deeply, finding reassurance in the familiar scent. It's a pleasant odor, crisp and sweet, and it goes a long way towards settling Kirk's nerves.

Though he has no reason to expect Spock will speak first, he's still disappointed when his first officer lets the silence stretch awkwardly between them. Spock's reticence leaves Kirk to call out the stalemate they've reached. Kirk hates finding words for complicated feelings; he has enough trouble expressing the simple ones. Finally he sighs and crosses his arms. He leans a hip against Spock's desk as he meets the Vulcan's eyes across the room.

"Enough," he says in a tired voice. "This is getting ridiculous."

Spock inclines his head, acquiescence if not agreement.

Kirk inhales slowly. He runs a hand through his hair. He braces himself, searches for a dignified way to say what he needs to and comes up blank. When he finally gets the words out, they come with neither tact nor preamble.

"I'm pretty sure the only way for us to get our heads on straight is to have sex."

There are plenty of reasons what he's suggesting is a terrible idea. But there are even more reasons it's the most excellent, practical and perfect idea he's ever had. That glimpse into Spock's head told Kirk everything he needed to know and more. There's tension twining between them, winding them tighter and tighter, and unless they do something about it they're liable to tear each other apart. 

Kirk doesn't get to voice any of his perfectly coherent reasoning before Spock disagrees.

"Such action on our parts would be inadvisable, Captain."

"Why?" Kirk asks, then clenches his jaw to keep from calling Spock out on the use of his title instead of his name. Of all the times to be _Captain_ instead of _Jim_ — 

"If we were to engage in sexual intercourse," Spock says, derailing the irate train of Kirk's thoughts, "the bond between us would likely become permanent."

Kirk gapes. When no further explanation proves forthcoming, he says, "When you say permanent...?"

"Even the most skilled mental healer would no longer be able to sever the connection that subsists between our minds."

That—

That sounds pretty good, actually, though Kirk is surprised to find himself thinking this way. For all his reluctance to sever the bond, this is a hundred times more important. Something bright and sharp ignites in his chest at the idea that maybe, if he plays his cards just right, he won't have to give Spock up after all.

"We should have sex anyway," Kirk announces.

"I think you are misapprehending—"

"No. Pretty sure I apprehend perfectly," Kirk interrupts stubbornly.

"What you are suggesting is—"

"The best idea I've ever had." Second or third best idea, maybe. Joining Starfleet was pretty brilliant, and saving Earth wasn't his worst choice ever. But sex with Spock is right up there on the list. 

Kirk is still apprehensive of rejection. There's every possibility Spock will shoot him down cold and kick him out. Despite Kirk's protests, he's all too aware that there's little chance of this conversation actually ending in sex with Spock. He's being an illogical, ridiculous human, and now is the time for Spock to call him out. Maybe he'll remind Kirk about that whole Pon Farr thing they don't ever talk about. Maybe he'll set messy emotions aside in favor of cool Vulcan reason, and thank Kirk for his offer while pointing out that the last thing Spock wants is to be bonded for life to a manic, irrational human being with a penchant for nearly getting himself killed.

Christ, this is going to be the worst conversation Kirk has ever had. He squares his shoulders and braces himself for the inevitable rebuke.

He continues to hold himself tense as Spock crosses the small distance separating them. He tries to guard his expression as Spock regards him with dark, serious eyes. The last thing he needs is to let on how desperately he wants Spock to touch him.

Then Spock reaches for him with one hand, fingers sliding back into Kirk's hair, curling around the nape of his neck. He tugs, and Kirk is confused, then shocked, then melting—because suddenly Spock is kissing him—rough and greedy, pinning Kirk hard against the edge of the desk. 

Fuck. Spock is kissing him. 

Kirk promised himself he wouldn't be caught useless and frozen again, and this time he opens immediately for Spock's tongue. He spreads his legs to let Spock slide closer against him. He reaches for Spock, fisting his fingers in blue uniform and pulling him nearer still. Spock is impossible heat along his front, free hand curling over Kirk's hip and holding on with bruising strength. 

When the kiss ends, Kirk is breathing hard. 

Spock is more controlled, and manages to sound completely calm when he says, "Your argument has merit."

Kirk drags him back down, into a second kiss, and without a word offers his wholehearted agreement.


End file.
